


Pet Peeve

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Challenge: The Pet Peeve Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:35:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim does not want to talk to his insurance agent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pet Peeve

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a late addition to the Pet Peeve, or Real Life 

## Pet Peeve

by Larissa March

Author's webpage: <http://www.javanet.com/~kitanzi/fanfic.htm>

Author's disclaimer: All good things belong to the creators of this most beloved series. Nothing is mine, save Kit. 

challenge. This is the first time I've written a Sentinel story, so please don't char me, but on the other hand, all honest and constructive criticism would be appreciated if anyone wants to take the time :) 

Rated G, as far as I can figure, and not betaed! So all mistakes are obviously my own, and any good in this should probably be credited to the inspiration of the guys. 

Archivist's Note: Story was posted to SXF on November 13, 1997. 

* * *

"Here we go, Chief," Jim said with forced cheer. He opened the loft door and gingerly took his partner's arm to help him through. 

"Oh man, this is SO much not fun," Blair groaned, pushing his long dark curls behind his ear with his left hand while cradling his right arm in a cast and sling against his chest. He suppressed a flash of irritation at Jim's mothering, and let him settle him against the end of the couch wrapped in a comforter. 

Jim sighed and collapsed onto the other end of the couch, leaning back and closing his eyes. Blair smiled fondly at him and wiggled around to sit next to him. "Hey, big guy," he whispered, wrapping his good arm around his lover's shoulders. "I hate to say this, but you told me to remind you to call the insurance company when we got back from the hospital. Remember the grief they gave you the last time when you didn't report the accident for a week?" 

Jim groaned and winced, keeping his eyes firmly shut. "How about you call it in, Sandburg? I can hear my agent adding all my premiums up every time I talk to him. I think I bought his youngest kid's braces, and he mentioned a vacation in Jamaica last time I went in to renew the policy." He opened one intensely blue eye and looked pleadingly at Blair, who drew back in mock horror. 

"Hold on, that's MY trick, Jim. Though you seem to be learning it pretty well \-- a little too well." He grinned and leaned forward for the phone. "Sure, it's the least I can do after you pulled me out of the truck just before it went over the bridge guard rail, love." He paused. "What's the phone number? Do you have one of his cards?" 

The older man, looking like he felt twice his age, grimaced and fished his wallet out of his back pocket. "Here you go, Chief, knock yourself out." He flipped it over and Blair caught it neatly one-handed, looking surprised then pleased with himself. He laid it out on the table and took the insurance card out. 

"Hey, Jim," he said, inspecting it. "Did you see they have a 24 hour claim reporting line? Why don't we just use that and skip your Jamaica bound agent?" The only answer was a faint snore. Blair snuggled a little closer and reached for the phone. 

* * *

"Thank you for calling the 24 hour claim reporting line, this is Kit speaking, how can I help you?" At quarter of eight, Kit had made that set speech so many times it ran together slightly, rising and falling on one breath, professionally polite and mechanical. It didn't even really register in her own ears anymore. 

"Yeah, hi. Um, I need to report a car accident." The voice was soft and slightly husky, definitely male. She often entertained herself by guessing what the faces matching the voices would look like, but by the end of the night, she was just too tired for more than faint curiosity. 

"Sure, I can take that for you. I hope everyone's okay?" She asked by rote, entering the file code and setting up the claim, with one eye on the clock. With a little luck, she'd be out of there in fifteen minutes, right on time. 

"Well, no, but it's not that bad, I just broke my arm. My partner got me out of the car in time." 

"Ouch!" Her attention snapped back and she listened more closely. "Sounds painful, but I'm glad it wasn't worse. Is everyone else okay?" 

"It's a long story," he started, his voice picking up speed and enthusiasm. _Oh no,_ she thought, _I hope this isn't someone who wants to tell me his life story. I really do want to go home - on the other hand, that voice is... mmmmmm._

"Jim's fine - he's my partner, we work for the police - but we were trying to catch up with a suspect who was trying to get away with a crate full of these really rare antique manuscripts he'd stolen from the Erickson Archive at Rainier University -- that's where I'm doing my dissertation. Anyhow, he stole the crate from a storage room while they were inventorying the archive, and I noticed when I was looking for a reference book on Sir Richard Burton's studies on... well, an obscure branch of anthropology. I was going through the room with a list when I saw..." 

Kit rapidly went from irritation to amusement to fascination to awe (partly at his vocal endurance). She did remember to take necessary notes, and eventually got the claim set up, with all the necessary numbers, times, directions, locations and names. He must be a great professor, she though, he gets all the details in there, but I could still listen to him -- and that voice \-- for hours. She wondered idly as the keyboard clicked away if he looked as hot as he sounded -- and decided he couldn't possibly. 

* * *

"Okay, Mr Sandburg, we're almost done here," her warm, smooth voice told him, sounding much less tired and mechanical than when she answered the call. 

"Kit, I told you to call me Blair," he scolded with a grin, slightly shifting Jim's head against his lap. He'd had to ask Kit to hold on earlier while he coaxed the big guy into lying down before he got a stiff neck. He'd settled back down, slowly stroking Jim's head while he wedged the phone between his ear and shoulder. He had apologized and explained what he'd done, a little shyly, and could hear the smile in her voice when she assured him it was no trouble before resuming reading the accident description back to him. _This sure beats dealing with Jim's agent,_ he'd thought, stifling a yawn, which had led to her reassurance that they were almost through. _I wish we'd known about this, say, two cars and a dozen accidents ago!_

"Okay, Blair." He was sure she was still smiling, but she sounded tired too. Guiltily he realized the clock said 5:15, which meant they'd been going through this for almost a half hour. "You said you were a passenger in the truck, so I just need to put your information in here too. Name, address, relationship to the insured, date of birth, injuries..." He could hear rapid key strokes. "And your relationship to Jim -- you said he's your partner, right?" He could hear speculation behind her voice, though she was still very casual. 

He shrugged. "Yes, in both senses. We've worked together for a few years now, and next Friday is our first anniversary. We were going camping, but now, with my arm, well, have to wait and see." He shut his mouth deliberately and waited for her response, slowly stroking Jim's head. He was proud of Jim and their love, but he was still a little shy telling people he didn't know about it. They'd both dealt with some vicious jerks in the past year, even though it was more than balanced out by the acceptance by most of their friends. 

"Congratulations!" she said, obviously meaning it. "But it sounds like you and Jim take good care of each other, and it's only your arm, not your head. I bet you go anyhow." He laughed. 

"You bet we will, Chief," growled the not-so-sleeping Sentinel in his lap. 

"Jim!" he yelped, surprised. "Didn't know you were awake, man." Blair blushed. 

"Well, someone has to keep an ear out and keep you out of trouble, love." Jim smiled tenderly and traced the line of Blair's jaw with one finger. "How about you finish up with the nice lady and we move upstairs, hmm?" Blair, for once at a loss for words, just blushed harder and nodded. 

* * *

"Okay then, guys, we're all set, and I'm sending this to the Spokane claims office, they will be calling you back by the end of the next business day, but if you have any questions, here's their phone number." Kit rattled it off while stretching and gathering her things to go home. "Anything else I can help you with?" She'd always thought that part of the script was suggestive, and apparently Blair didn't miss the fact, since he laughed again. 

"Ah, well, let's see... ouch!" His mock leering tone changed to mock outrage. "He hit me, big bully. Hey, you're not supposed to be listening in on my phone conversations, guy!" She had to laugh, but wondered how Jim had heard both sides of the conversation. She was usually good at picking up if someone got on an extension in the middle of a call. 

"Anyhow, Blair, Jim, you guys have a good night, and thanks for having all the information to make this go easily, and for your patience. Don't take this wrong, but I hope I never have to hear from you again, right?" 

"Oh, you will, you can count on it! But anyhow, good night. How much longer do you have left until you can go home? You sound tired." 

"Actually, I am going home now, it's almost 8:30 here." she replied, checking the wall clock. "I'm in Massachusetts, it's three hours later than you, but you have a good night and get some rest!" She heard an low, evil laugh in the background and shook her head ruefully. "Well, anyhow try to!" 

They both said goodbye and hung up. She turned her computer off, put away her headset, and headed to the time clock. _I still don't know what either of them looks like - maybe I can ask next time...._

* * *

End Pet Peeve. 

 


End file.
